


sun+moon

by rendawnie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Dubious Science, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Made Up Facts Probably, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Sort Of, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rendawnie/pseuds/rendawnie
Summary: Many of the things that were “supposed” to happen, didn’t, and it was that knowledge that kept Mark going. Something wasn’t right about this, as if anything could be right about an entire planet dying. Somewhere, deep inside, Mark knew the sun wasn’t gone, not entirely. The moon was still there somewhere, although the tides had gone still. He had to have hope. It was all that was left.





	sun+moon

**Author's Note:**

> It's a few days late, but I wanted to post something for Donghyuck's birthday...

There was no sound anymore, except the ragged breaths Mark let out as he pedaled his bike further and further out of what used to be his town. No sound. No light. No one else for miles.

No one else anywhere.

For years, it had only been Mark. His family was long gone, lost to the earth like the rest of humanity. He should have been gone, too. But something was keeping him here. Something made him wake up every day, forced him to keep breathing in and out even though there was no one to see him to do it. No one to talk to, or laugh with.

Six long years of solitude.

He hadn’t eaten yet, today. Time wasn’t important anymore, not when there were no sun and moon to keep track of it. The pages and pages of tally marks in his old, worn notebook were all Mark had to measure how long he’d been alone. Two thousand, one hundred and ninety-one scratches with an old pencil, to let him know that there was no one coming back. No one coming for him.

Mark rode his bike until he couldn’t go any further without a break, the path from here back to the small, dilapidated shed he called home so familiar by now that he could have traveled it with his eyes closed. It would have been just the same as when they were open.

No light. No light anywhere.

He laid his bike down in the dirt, squinting up at the black sky. Only a few stars remained visible, the rest swept away with the passage of neverending night. Mark sank down onto the cool earth, rummaging in his backpack for the tiny flashlight, all he had left to cast a small glimmer around him. Back at his shack, there was a dwindling stockpile of batteries, stolen from the empty shops and homes in what used to be his neighborhood. Before.

Mark was twelve years old when the apocalypse came. That’s what the news called it, anyway.

_The sun is fading rapidly. Humanity will die out once it’s gone._

It didn’t, was the funny thing. They all should have disappeared within weeks, succumbed to the chill of the Earth’s temperature dropping. But it didn’t happen. Darkness covered them, but they kept living as long as they could. And now, Mark was the only one still doing it, still putting one foot in front of the other every day. Still existing on the non-perishable food he’d gathered from wherever he could, after his parents faded away.

Many of the things that were “supposed” to happen, didn’t, and it was that knowledge that kept Mark going. Something wasn’t right about this, as if anything  _could_ be right about an entire planet dying. Somewhere, deep inside, Mark knew the sun wasn’t gone, not entirely. The moon was still there somewhere, although the tides had gone still. He had to have hope. It was all that was left.

He furrowed his brow, training the weak flashlight on his notebook. Beyond the tallies, he’d filled pages and pages with notes, culled from hours and days of research at what was once the library. Mark estimated that he’d probably read eighty percent of the books there by now, especially all the science tomes. He didn’t know what for, since there was no one else to share his findings with, but he was going to figure this out. He would figure out why this had happened, and then he would… still be in the same situation, probably. But with _information._

For whatever that was worth, anymore.

Mark scanned the yellowed pages in his notebook, searching for something. It had taken him over a year, but he’d managed to identify the few stars he could see with any regularity, and he knew where the moon should be, even if he couldn’t see it. He knew it wasn’t _gone._ That was impossible.

As impossible as the sun just… turning off. Clocking out for the millennia.

After a while, Mark gave up on reading. His head hurt, and he was running low on aspirin back at the shed. He laid back in the dust and dirt and gazed up into the sky for a while, until it made his head hurt more, and then he closed his eyes.

It wasn’t dangerous, being out here. There were no predators left, nothing that could harm him except the thought of going home to another well-rounded meal of one Twinkie and a few sips of bottled water. Mark was pretty sure he had enough of both left to last him for his entire life, however long that would be, but he was still rationing. Or, he was just really tired of Twinkies. Either way.

It was impossible to know what temperature it was anymore. It should have been freezing, _beyond_ freezing, but every day since the sun went away had been… strangely _mild_. There wasn’t any wind, or rain. There were no seasons. It was just _still._ That was the only word Mark could use to describe it. Nothing moved, except him.

Nothing moved, ever, so when Mark heard the sound of quiet footsteps coming his direction, he thought he was dreaming, and he was fine with that. His dreams were never silent. They were full of light and color and people and _noise_ , as much noise as he could stand. He wanted to live in those dreams, to stay there forever. He didn’t think he was lonely, anymore. It was something beyond that, most days, something that felt duller and more sharp than loneliness ever could, all at once. But now, he was dreaming, and there was someone coming, and Mark welcomed it with everything left in him.

He sat up, blinking rapidly, trying to see anything around him. Still pitch black. He thought to pick up his flashlight again, but it might have been a waste of batteries, even in his dreams.

Mark cleared his throat, the sound foreign and grating. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked, had any reason at all to use his voice. “Hello?” he called hesitantly as the footsteps continued to get closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark thought he saw a faint yellow glow, but when he turned his head, there wasn’t anything there.

“Hi.”

Jerking his head around quickly, Mark nearly squealed in surprise to see a boy standing in front of him, because there hadn’t been a boy standing anywhere near him before, and also, to his knowledge, he was the last boy left on this entire planet. Mark thought again about reaching for his flashlight, turning it on so he could see better, when he realized that suddenly, he could see just fine. There was a strange glow around the boy, less an actual light than just an aura, soft and rose-gold, emanating from every part of his body.

It had been over half a decade since Mark had seen another person, except in pictures, so he took a moment to just _look._ The boy seemed to be close to Mark’s age, as best as he had been keeping up with it. He had bronze skin and rusty orange hair, and he was dressed simply, in a yellow hoodie and jeans. And he was definitely, one hundred percent glowing. That part reassured Mark that this was, in fact, still a dream, that he wasn’t hallucinating in real life, suddenly going crazy and facing down his own imminent unraveling.

Mark got to his feet a little clumsily. He could barely feel his legs, could barely feel his own _body,_ but he knew he was trembling from head to toe. Licking his lips, he tried to remember how to do this, what he should say next. “Who are you?”

It seemed a good place to start.

The boy looked sad, for a moment. “I’m… I’m Haechan. Donghyuck.”

Mark frowned. “Which is it?”

There was a small sigh before the boy responded. “Donghyuck, I guess.”

“Where did you come from?” Mark asked next, keeping his arms tightly at his sides, so he could avoid reaching out and literally _feeling Donghyuck up,_ just to convince himself he was real.

Donghyuck smiled a bit. “I’ve always been here,” he answered, and _yep,_ Mark was totally dreaming, because Donghyuck was speaking in riddles, and acting as though they should make sense.

“Okay,” Mark replied unsteadily. “My name is Mark.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Mark,” he repeated, pronouncing it carefully.

Mark was still shaking, and he wrapped his arms around himself, hoping it wouldn’t show as much. “What are you doing out here?” he tried finally, hoping it was a different enough question to warrant a different, less confusing answer.

Donghyuck frowned, and Mark marveled again at how he could _see_ it, how he could see every feature on Donghyuck’s face, every freckle and the curve of his cheeks, and moreover, how he could see _himself,_ on top of that, shivering in the small circle of light Donghyuck was still somehow emitting.

“I’m looking for my moon,” Donghyuck murmured after a while.

Mark was postiive he hadn’t heard right. “You’re looking for _the_ moon?” he clarified. “The moon’s… y’know, it’s… it’s not around, right now. We wouldn’t really know if it was,” he told Donghyuck, wondering why he had to explain this at all. Every human had known the details of what was happening to them, even as they were dying off. If Donghyuck had somehow managed to make it through, like Mark, he had to be aware of the situation.

Donghyuck turned his face to the sky, still frowning. “I think I’d know if I met my moon again,” he said softly.

This was turning out to be a _very_ weird dream.

“I… um, okay,” Mark said, when he couldn’t think of anything else. “Are you… are you hungry? I might have an extra Twinkie in here…” He trailed off, bending down to unzip his backpack and look through it.

Donghyuck didn’t move. “No. Not really,” he answered.

Mark glanced up at him, then shrugged, seating himself back on the dirt. “Okay. Well. You can sit, if you want,” he offered, patting the dirt next to him. Donghyuck did after a moment, lowering himself down almost gingerly and folding his limbs into what looked like a very complicated pretzel shape. Neither of them said anything for a while. Donghyuck seemed content with the silence, and Mark had begun covertly pinching different parts of his own body, trying to wake himself up if he could. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find out more about Donghyuck. It was just that this was all starting to feel alarmingly _real,_ and if it was, if there was an actual glowing boy named Donghyuck sitting with Mark in the dirt field and they were the only two humans left on earth… what happened next?

The silence went on for a while, and Mark was staring down at his dirty shoes, because he could actually see them, when he heard a small sniffle next to him.

When he glanced over, sparkling golden tears were sliding down Donghyuck’s cheeks one at a time, spilling onto his hoodie and leaving trails of shimmer down his face.

“Oh,” Mark said. “Oh, no… no, no, no… don’t… don’t cry. It’s okay, I promise,” he stuttered out, scooting closer to Donghyuck and wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. He hadn’t let himself cry in years, had stopped feeling almost anything. It hadn’t felt worthwhile, anymore. But Donghyuck was obviously feeling a lot of things, and Mark had no idea what to do about it, except to try and be as comforting as he could. He knew it wasn’t enough.

Donghyuck let out a shuddering sigh, turning his face and pressing it into Mark’s chest as he cried. Mark looked at the sky again after a while, half-praying to whoever might be up there to help him figure out what Donghyuck needed.

“I just want my moon back,” Donghyuck whispered brokenly into Mark’s shirt, and that still didn’t make any sense at all, so Mark made another attempt.

“Who’s your moon?” he questioned, feeling a little silly as the words came out of his mouth. But, it was too late to take them back.

Donghyuck sighed again, wiping at his eyes, tears staining the back of his palm brilliant gold. “He’s my moon. He’s the moon.”

Mark didn’t say anything to that.

“The sun needs the moon. That’s just the way it is.”

Mark stared at the gold smeared down Donghyuck’s cheeks and dripping off his fingers. It had been a long time since he’d cried, but he was pretty sure tears weren’t supposed to be gold. Shifting quietly, he gave pinching himself another try, squeezing the skin at the nape of his neck between his fingers as hard as he could. “Ow.”

Donghyuck sat up, still sniffling a little. “What’s wrong?”

Mark winced, rubbing at the sore spot. “Nothing. I just… thought I might be asleep, or something.”

It made Donghyuck laugh, a short sound that was just as soft as his voice, so Mark didn’t regret saying it. “You’re not asleep,” Donghyuck said.

Mark glanced at Donghyuck for a moment, with his copper skin and his twenty-four carat tears. “You kind of seem like a dream,” he murmured, and he didn’t exactly mean it the way he saw Donghyuck take it, but it made Donghyuck blush, so he didn’t regret that, either.

Rubbing his slightly sweaty palms on his denim-covered thighs, Mark cleared his throat again, looking away. “Anyway. ‘The sun needs the moon.’”

“Mmm,” Donghyuck agreed, staring across the field at nothing.

“What does that mean?” Mark pressed. He wanted to understand. This wasn’t a dream. This was really happening, and none of it made sense, and he wanted to _understand._

Donghyuck smiled a little, running a hand through his hair. “It means what it means, Mark,” he answered, and Mark rolled his eyes, frustrated.

“Okay. Just. Pretend I’m a complete idiot, for a minute,” he started, but Donghyuck cut him off right away.

“ _Are_ you a complete idiot?” he asked, but it wasn’t derisive. It was an honest question, and Mark had always thought he’d known the answer, but right now, he just wasn’t sure.

He sighed plaintively. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Donghyuck chuckled. “You don’t seem like an idiot.”

“That’s… that’s good,” Mark muttered, rubbing at his eyes. He was still confused.

Next to him, Donghyuck took a deep breath, staring down into his hands, forming a small opening between his palms. Mark watched as a spark flickered to life and Donghyuck cradled it, smiling while it grew slowly, spinning in dizzying circles. “The sun needs the moon,” he said for a third time. “I’m the sun, Mark. I’m the reason the world went dark.”

Mark didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.

“My name was Haechan. It means _full sun,_ ” Donghyuck began. “I loved the moon. I… I _love._ I love the moon. I always loved him.”

Donghyuck told his story quietly, eyes trained on the orb he held in his hands as it continued glowing and growing. “I loved him so much, and…” Donghyuck paused for a moment. Mark watched him search for the words. He realized that he was the first person to ever hear this story, and any other day, in any other situation, he wouldn’t have believed it. But they were the only two people on earth, and today, he let Donghyuck’s words mean something.

“We were reckless,” Donghyuck continued, pupils shining in the small, steady sunlight in his hands. “We couldn’t see each other very much. Only in passing, but sometimes… sometimes, we would stay too long.”

“An eclipse,” Mark muttered, before he could stop himself. He was starting to feel strange, suddenly. He could feel something in his stomach, feel it like it was a blooming flower, petals unfurling out towards his ribcage gently.

Donghyuck smiled ruefully. “An eclipse. But, we would lose track of time. The eclipses would go on for centuries, before we noticed. We wreaked havoc on the world just by loving each other,” he said sadly. Mark listened quietly, unaware of the way he was starting to glow, too. A different kind of light. One that was reflective. The pale counterpart to Donghyuck’s warmth.

“One day, my father had enough,” Donghyuck went on. “He split us up. He said if we were going to be careless with the world we were supposed to take care of, we didn’t deserve it at all.” He wasn’t crying anymore, but Mark was. He barely noticed the tears falling at first, but then his vision started to blur with them, and shimmering, silver lines dotted his shirt where they fell. It had to be Donghyuck, he knew. Donghyuck’s magic. Donghyuck’s _whatever._

“He split us up, and it tore the fabric of this world. Tore the atmosphere in half. Without me, my moon can’t shine,” Donghyuck said sadly. “And without my moon… I have no one to shine for,” he finished.

Mark was shaking again.

“I’ve been wandering for six years, Mark,” Donghyuck whispered. “Six years of darkness. Six years, getting weaker and weaker. I don’t know how much longer I would have lasted if I hadn’t found you.” 

When Donghyuck slipped his hand into Mark’s, he stopped shaking. He looked up, eyes wide and scared, and Donghyuck gazed back at him calmly. He looked happy. Donghyuck squeezed Mark’s hand tighter, and they looked down together.

Mark stared at their palms, glowing against each other’s. Gold and silver melting together, and Donghyuck’s sun suspended above their heads, now, lighting them up even more.

“I remember,” Mark said suddenly, unaware he was even speaking at all, at first. “I remember being in the sky. I remember…” He trailed off, crying harder. “I remember holding you, Haechan.”

Haechan just nodded wordlessly.

“I remember him being so angry. Your father.” Mark bit the words out, hating the way they tasted on his tongue. “I remember him throwing us out of the sky and I remember… I remember waking up in this body. With a new family. And then I…”

“You lost all the other memories, for a while,” Haechan added, picking up where Mark left off. Mark nodded, wiping his eyes. “I never did,” Haechan told him. “I remembered everything, and when I landed here, I… I just started walking. I started looking for you.”

Mark sniffled. “How far did you have to walk?” he asked, unsure why it even mattered.

Haechan laughed a little. “A ways.”

Staring up into the dark, empty sky, Mark thought of one last question. “How did you recognize me?”

Haechan smiled, turning Mark’s face to his so their lips met in a gentle, sweet kiss. “I could see the moon in your eyes,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the crescent-shaped birthmark on Mark’s collarbone. Mark blushed, unable to tear his eyes away from his sun, now that they were together again. Haechan let him look for a while, until they were both blushing and giggling, alone in a dark dirt field on their dark planet.

Mark sighed, looking around. “So, what do we do now?” he asked, because he really wasn’t sure what happened next. “I mean, things might still be the same up there. We might still be outcasts. What do we do now?” he repeated.

Haechan stood, pulling Mark up with him as he went. He held both of Mark’s hands in his and met his eyes, and everything was starting to shine again, not just the sun and the moon who fell to earth. When Haechan answered Mark, his voice was sweet and clear and perfect, just like it always had been.

“We go home. We go home, and we change the rules.”


End file.
